


ball and chain

by paws_bells



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, General, Humor, Romance, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-04 18:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paws_bells/pseuds/paws_bells
Summary: BelHaru TYL ficlet. Established relationship. Years later, he still likes to tell everyone that she was the one who lassoed him first with that tattered, frumpy scarf.





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:** ball and chain

 **Author:** sllebswap

 **Characters/Pairing:** Miura Haru and Belphegor

 **Type:** One-Shot (Complete)

 **Genre:** General/Romance/Humor

 **Word Count:** 5108

 **Rating:** M (Contains content suitable for mature teens and older) **SMUT WARNING!!**

 **Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.

 **Summary:** TYL ficlet. Established relationship. Years later, he still likes to tell everyone that she was the one who lassoed him first with that tattered, frumpy scarf.

 **Chapter Last Revised on:** 04/04/19

* * *

When she proudly presented that scarf to him, he had stared at it for the longest time.

Then, he stared at her.

She looked so pleased with her handiwork, faintly flushed with achievement and beaming brightly from the excitement of springing her anticipated surprise.

“Haru knitted something for you!” she declared with a huge smile. “What do you think?”

_What did he think…?_

…It was _seriously_ ugly, that was what Belphegor promptly thought. He wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like it, generally speaking. And why would he?

He was used to sporting luxury labels, and that frumpy thing offered to him looked nothing like any of the tasteful, stylish high fashion outfits in his extensive walk-in closet. Even the types of scarves he was used to were those made of priceless vicuna wool and the softest cashmere, and others the highest grade of mulberry silk, all professionally and meticulously harvested and processed, the material so fine that they shimmered and pooled like water across one’s fingers.

_In stark contrast, this was…_

Incomparable.

But this scarf that she was giving him was a homely looking thing, _because_ it was homemade. It was simple, and it was plain. It was fuzzy and cumbersome and just uneven around the edges and he could not even begin to tell what it was made of. Some rough, unrefined plebian material, no doubt. How the common masses survived on these questionable articles of clothing was beyond his comprehension.

“…I don’t have to put on this monstrosity, do I?” he deadpanned at last. “Did I somehow piss you off more than usual lately to merit this unusual method of torture?”

Predictably, her sunny cheerfulness nosedived into outrage. Her ridiculously sweet, sincere features instantly scrunched with displeasure. It made her look hilariously constipated, so of course it was amongst his top five favorite expressions to see on her face.

“Hahi! What’s that supposed to mean, desu? Haru worked very hard to make it! Haru spent a lot of effort and time!”

“You could have just bought one from a shop,” he pointed out, not really understanding what the fuss was all about. “And saved your effort and time.” The commercially purchased item probably would have looked a lot better too, but he kept that titbit to himself. He didn’t want to piss her off too much. _Yet_.

He just wasn’t getting it at all, was he? Suddenly, she looked less irritated and more like she was feeling sorry for him…which of course in turn annoyed him as well. He was a Prince, born to a staggering amount of wealth, power and privilege; she was the last person to need to feel sorry for him.

“The feelings that I poured into this scarf matters as well,” she earnestly explained. “Haru thought of you the whole time she was making this scarf. It’s imbued with the warmest, fondest feelings I have for you!”

He paused at that. Digested her words. _Interesting_. But then he eyed the scarf again.

“All your feelings, huh?”

She flushed at his skeptical tone. “Hahi, you’re so rude. Even though Haru is not very good at knitting yet, Haru still did her best!”

She was starting to look irritated by his taunting too, and so she reached over to grab the problematic scarf, intending to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Since you hate it that much, Haru will take it back and let someone else have it,” she huffed. Why she was dating this terribly evil brat of a man was completely beyond her understanding sometimes, and this was one of those special moments.

However, before she could pull away, the blond stole the scarf and casually held it out of her reach. She scowled and tried to make another grab for it, but he had some height on her and easily kept her away.

“What do you think you’re doing,” she demanded, frustrated by his provocative demeanor.

“Who else are you planning to give your feelings away to?” he asked her back in a deceptively pleasant manner.

She paused in surprise at his question, before her disgruntlement crept back anew. “Why do you care? Haru’s feelings are too ugly for you anyway!” She was hurt by his callous response, but from the beginning, Belphegor had never exactly hidden that side of him from her…which once again made her wonder _why_ she was somehow dating this insensitive person who was so drastically different in temperament and character.

“I never said that,” he retorted, and since she was starting to climb over him in her determination to retrieve the scarf, he used his other hand and pushed his palm against her forehead, easily warding her off. “At any rate, this is mine now, ugly or not. What do you think you’re doing, _hmm_ , stealing something that belongs to a prince?”

She scowled at his casual arrogance, a small little growl emitting from her throat. To her ever increasing outraged, he looked intrigued by her growing pique. She suddenly felt like strangling him with the damn thing.

“Hahi, who is stealing?? Haru was the one who gave the scarf to you in the first place, but Haru has changed her mind now so give it back already.”

He gazed at her contemplatively. “Are your feelings that fickle and interchangeable then, sparrow?”

She squinted at his sly, subtly insidious words. “Haru wonders,” she responded with brash bravado, and quick as a flash, he had the scarf wrapped around her neck, swift hands twisting the ends together and turning the neck piece into a makeshift lead that bound her to him.

Belphegor smirked sharply at her startled expression. “ _Tsk_ ,” he chided. “That won’t do at all, you know? Once I decide to keep something, I don’t ever let go.”

He was being his usual asshole self over this whole debacle, that she knew, but still her treacherous heart beat faster at his certain, assured claim.

She narrowed her eyes even more, undaunted by the fact that he had pulled her so near that their noses were almost touching. “Hahi, are you going to wear this scarf I made for you or not?”

He looked at her. “Do I really have to.” He sounded quite unenthusiastic, and she reached out and pinched him in the side in annoyance. He twitched.

“Yes, you absolutely have to. Because that will make me happy, desu.”

She never asked much from him. Not in the way of his staggering wealth, or the seductive influence of his power. What she sought from him with unapologetic selfishness and greediness however, was his attention. In that aspect, the chirpy, fluttering sparrow turned into a possessive little lioness; she practically _demanded_ that he take responsibility for her happiness; what an utterly unreasonable woman this was. 

Oh well. He wouldn’t find her so appealing if she wasn’t like that.

“How happy will it make you?” he asked, slowly leaning in even closer.

She turned her head slightly to brush her lips against his cheek. Her gentle affection was subtly sweet, despite her earlier aggravation with him. It drew him, her dizzying tenderness. Her face glowed softly. 

“Haru will be very happy,” she confirmed. Her slender fingertips drew light, restless lines along the rise of his lean hips. It was deliciously distracting. He grabbed her hand to still her, only for her to press their palms together, her fingers curling, blithely intertwining with his. She also turned those big, brown doe eyes at him, expectant. He stared back at her. _This woman._  

“…Fine. I’ll allow you to convince me.”

Haru’s brow wrinkled a little at his terse reply. 

“Hahi? Why must I still have to convince you?” What kind of logic was that? This guy was really too much, making her do all the work! She started to looked ruffled again. He disregarded her disgruntlement and took advantage of her indignation to herd her towards the bedroom.

“First, put on that scarf properly and show me,” he suggested, his voice slick like silk.

“Eh?” Haru still did not get what he meant. “A scarf is a scarf, desu. What do you mean, I still have to show you how to wear a scarf-” Hadn’t he worn a scarf before? How could he not know how?

It was also getting harder and harder to concentrate on their conversation, mainly because he had taken to slyly molesting her at the same time. His skillful, adroit hand caressed her with assured, knowing confidence, and even as she was annoyed by his friskiness, her body started to tingle with rising excitement all the same. She squawked when she realized that he was deftly and very expertly peeling her clothes off. It was an unsurprising outcome; he had _a lot_ of practice in this endeavor ever since they got together, after all.

Haru smacked Belphegor’s hand away halfheartedly, flustered and complaining. “Hahi, what do you think you’re doing? Stop, Haru is too ugly for the royal likes of your princeliness.”

He was amused by her grouchy little snit. “I don’t mind.”

She lifted her head and started glaring at him so hard, he burst into laughter. There were others out there more beautiful, but her ability to please him and captivate his attention was unique and unrivalled, so he was not lying.

He reached over and pinched her cheek until it turned red and she was growling with aggravation; his savage gestures of affection really needed a lot of work, Haru thought unhappily.

Belphegor grinned at this sweet, tender morsel that he had captured neatly between his claws. “Serve your master well tonight, wench.”

She turned her head and snapped at his fingers. He pulled away just in time so her teeth closed on thin air, still laughing softly at her ferocious indignation. _Cute_.

“Belphegor!”

He gave into impulse and swooped in, stealing a long and deep kiss from her and not letting up on his ardent, dizzying spell until she settled down reluctantly. He was still smiling when he finally pulled away, licking his lips slowly, pleasure growing at the dazed, ravaged expression on her face. She was very attractive.

Belphegor pinched her rear with lusty playfulness, eliciting a yelp from her. His mouth brushed teasingly against her ear, as if he was just casually commenting on the weather. _“This prince is pleased.”_

She shivered at his meaning. He was slowly but surely turning her into a squirming masochist with his sadistic tendencies, dammit.

He chuckled at her distracted expression. It was curious, how he had ended up with someone like her. Such a soft, warm, and loving little woman, the two of them were as different as night and day. But that difference was not a bad thing. He _enjoyed_ that difference. There was enough friction to make things interesting, and even though they irritated each other sometimes, they still ended up gravitating towards the other all the same.

He hadn’t fought that instinctual pull once he quickly figured out what it all meant, but she, on the other hand, had struggled with all her might to escape the fast closing net, since he had mercilessly teased and bullied her the whole way. Not his fault for being mean; she was very charming whenever he made her cry, so how could he resist?

He started to drag her towards the bedroom once more, now growing increasingly impatient to have her writhing under him, that expression of hers painted with erotic pleasure. She promptly understood the reason for his sudden zeal, and hastily tried to put on the brakes.

“Hahi, s-stop! We’re still having a discussion!”

“We’re discussing whatever else you want to discuss in bed.” He continued to pull her along assertively. It had been weeks since he saw her and he was very keen to reconnect with her in that carnal, intimate way.

“Lies!” she muttered grievously under her breath. She was going to be hungrily eaten up all night long, she just knew it already. They had been down this path often enough for her to divine her immediate future. “We won’t be discussing anything once you get Haru in bed, desu!”

Belphegor shrugged. “Our bodies will be sharing a heated communication; feel free to do your best.”

He tumbled her onto the raised mattress, only pausing long enough to shrug off his jacket and pull off his shirt. Then he climbed in after her, pinning her with his sleek, wiry physique, hard and toned from his dangerous Varia lifestyle. She immediately became distracted, and he further quelled her restless disgruntlement with greedy kisses; his hands made quick work of her blouse, and then her bra was swiftly dealt with, too. Those warm palms rubbed and kneaded her sensitive, tender mounds possessively, just as his mouth found that spot just between the line of her neck and clavicle, latched on, and started to suck.

She quivered, her breath whooshing out of her lungs. He slid his leg between her thighs, coaxing them to part for him. The scarf loosened and slowly slipped around her bared shoulders in their struggle, and she started to tug it off distractedly, only for him to stop her.

“No,” he mumbled, mouth glued to her soft skin. “The scarf stays on…but everything else can go.”

She turned her head slightly and squinted at him, recalling the words he had said earlier. _Put on that scarf properly and show me._

His meaning was exceedingly clear now. She turned a rosy red. _This perv-!_

“You-” her protest died off, turning into a shuddering moan when he grabbed a trailing edge of the scarf and rubbed the woolen material across her bared nipples. The slightly course, feathery texture scraping against the tips of her chest made her stomach tighten, as a tide of desire swelled in her. Her eyes darkened, her fingers curling wordlessly into his biceps. His lips curved sinfully at her reaction.

“Such a lewd expression, sitting on that pretty angel face,” he purred languidly. Embarrassment crossed her features at his teasing, more blood flowing beneath the soft, translucent skin of her winsome, warmed cheeks. She turned her face away, seeking to conceal her reaction. Long, lean fingers cupped her chin firmly, turning her gaze back to meet his.

His grin lazily widened. “Do you think I’ll let you hide?” His pant-clad knee pressed teasingly against that sensitive, increasingly slick spot between her legs. Her hips rolled in reaction, wanting him so instinctively she could not even help herself. She bit her lip, trying unsuccessfully to control herself.

He was riveted. She was irresistible when she was helplessly needy like this; it was no wonder he liked to bully her until that side of her inevitably slipped out. His thumb slowly stroked her cheek, affection unconsciously spilling out of that single act.

“Show me _everything_ , hm?”

* * *

A few mutually pleasurable hours later, Belphegor decided that he had grown fond of that ugly ass scarf.

Smugly, he declared that its hideousness had grown on him, and hence he was going to keep it.

Haru had changed her mind as well. Mortified, she promptly demanded that he give it back.

 _Of course_ he proceeded to do the opposite. Sometimes she wondered if he deliberately did things contrary to her wishes just to annoy her.

“I’m appreciating your feelings a whole lot more now,” he cackled.

“Hahi, you’re just being a perv!” Her face was bright red as she accused.

“Rude. Just because we had sex with you wrapped in nothing but that scarf does not make me a pervert. See here, I felt so sentimental about the experience I even took photos for keepsake.”

At his shameless reminder, she grew even redder. She pounced over and wrestled him in her determination to steal the long, woolen accessory from his grasp, much to his glee and amusement. They were still in bed and stark naked, and he could appreciate her body wiggling against his as she strained to grab the scarf from his raised hands. 

It was an endeavor doomed to failure since he had no intention to give it back. At last, he tossed it aside, far out of her reach. Then he grabbed her before she could scoot over to regain possession of it.

Haru growled with frustration.

“Don’t think Haru does not know; you just like to take photos of Haru when we’re doing it to satisfy your fetish, desu,” she sounded disgruntled.

Well, she wasn’t wrong. “If not your photos, then who else’s?” he retorted. This was the same woman who actually mustered the chutzpah to threaten his manhood when he inadvertently stared too long at some random woman; he had been quite amazed by her fierce possessiveness, enough to actually concede to her. “I’ve needs too, you know.”

Her ears heated up at the casual confirmation that he was using her photos to get off when they were apart. Most importantly, her momentary pause gave him the opportunity to flip her onto her back, and he rolled over her smoothly. Thanks to their rousing horseplay, his stiffening length pressed against her thigh.

She squinted at him in disbelief. _This insatiable horndog._ “We just finished doing it!!”

“So?” he nuzzled the side of her neck, feeling amorous all over again. His hands lazily kneaded the swell of her hips, enjoying her softness. Her warmth was delightfully, headily addictive. He did not know how to explain it; she was different from all the others that had come before and he could never seem to get enough. “The night is young, and this prince is energetic~”

“This Haru is tired, desu!” She was trying her hardest not to squirm. And most importantly- “This Haru still wants to walk properly tomorrow, desu! It’s uncomfortable when we do it so much-”

But even as she was muttering her grievances, she did not push him away. She was an affectionate, tactile creature. She thrived on physical gestures, and even though he was overwhelmingly sexual when it came to his at times raw, visceral displays of affection, she still eventually accepted and tamed willingly beneath his touch. That grace and sweetness of hers was beyond mesmerizing; it was _special_.

Eventually, he raised his head briefly to gaze at her faintly disgruntled features, studying her with vulpine contemplation, sharp and discerning. Then he dismissed her complaints; her expression wasn’t one of acute distress and unhappiness, rather, it seemed more like she was angling for something else.

“Just lie there then. I’ll do all the work.”

She stiffened, frowning. He wasn’t buying her bluff.

“Hahi, that’s not what Haru means! Why can’t we just cuddle? Haru wants to cuddle!!!” She sounded peeved too, because she _knew_ they were going to do it all the same. And of course they did. She had never met anyone like him before, who desired her so openly and wantonly. Sometimes she really did not know what to think of it. Him. This relationship. It was dizzying and disorienting, like she was being swept into the heart of a hurricane. They don’t really do normal couple things too, so it was even harder for her to get her bearings around him.

Belphegor leaned into her neck and bit his woman hard enough to leave behind a mark, even as his hand slipped between her legs and started to tease those slick, swollen folds, still puffy and slippery from their previous session. Her heart started to race once more at his relentless stimulation, growing dazed all over anew, her unruly body going limp beneath his once more.

“Aren’t we _cuddling_ now,” he muttered against her skin. Their bodies fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle, heat sparking with every delicious bit of friction. He pinned her down firmly, anchoring her to him and ensuring that she could not escape his lustful attention. Cuddling was just skinship, right? He would ensure that they are joined from chest to loin for the rest of the night, if she was so keen to _cuddle_.  

She felt hot and restless all over. She nipped at his shoulder in vague displeasure, after a momentary pause to gather her scattered, distracted thoughts. What were they talking about again? _Ah_! “…That’s n-not _haaah-_ what I mean!”

He bit her neck again, impatiently getting this little woman to submit her entirety to him. His hand palmed her breast, squeezing, her chest already generously decorated by lavish red-pink marks courtesy of his bestowment. “Be quiet and let me embrace you. Why are you still so shrewish even when this prince is gracing your bed-”

He pulled his fingers from between her legs and finally replaced those dampened digits with his cock, now fully erect. He slid slowly, deliberately into her, inch by inch, and she mewed and whimpered softly when he was fully seated within the snug, pulsating warmth of her body, no longer able to continue their conversation. Her thighs parted even more to accommodate him, those slender limbs instinctively, intimately hugging his waist. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she hid her flushed face in his chest, gasping as he pulled her up against him and started to rock eagerly into her…

* * *

That scarf was soft, fluffy, and very warm.

Just like her.

It also _smelled_ like her, or at least it smelled like the fabric softener she liked to use, so despite his initial resistance to its unremarkable appearance, he still ended up wrapping it around his neck a few days later, when opportunity struck.

And of course, it was very comfortable. Like her.

It quickly became an accessory he often put on, and he death-stared anyone who even dared glance at him the wrong way (not that anyone actually did).

Haru had used one of his favorite colors; a dark, deep red like pooling blood. Not so coincidentally, that hue was very suitable for concealing certain types of unsightly, occupational related stains that sometimes splattered on his clothes during his more…enthusiastic dedication towards his work.

That said, so far, he had been careful. Nothing…and no one, was allowed to touch that prized belonging with the exception of himself.

The men in the Varia Storm Unit were bewildered by their Commander’s odd behavior. The bloodthirsty blond was already eccentric enough most days, but lately, those poor, perplexed soldiers had no idea how to respond to their badly gloating boss. It didn’t take them long to figure it out; apparently the man had received a priceless handmade gift from his girlfriend (priceless because Belphegor had decided thusly, even if no one was ever going to buy it) and so had been ugly boasting about his new neckpiece the last week or so. No wonder he was in a good mood. Even some of the other Varia Commanders had heard about the present from Haru and were bemused by Belphegor’s demeanor.

His men were struggling not to sweat at their boss’s extreme tsundere-ness…if one disregarded all the unflattering criticisms that fell out of his mouth, wasn’t he just proudly bragging away that his beloved woman had lovingly made him a scarf to keep him warm during this cold, winter season and smugly rubbing his good fortune in everyone’s faces?

Or at least Belphegor was unbearably smug for a couple of weeks until it suddenly occurred to him that he had willingly allowed himself to be collared around the neck by this dangerously soft, fluffy woman. That made him unhappy for a few days, until he figured out that there was a very easy way to get around this issue.

And so Haru was blissfully minding her own business one day when that volatile boyfriend of hers abruptly blew into her apartment one random evening, startling her with his unexpected arrival. Per his usual mode of ‘greeting,’ he promptly dragged her into her bedroom and proceeded to lavish upon her his scorching, amorous lust, sweeping her away with his physically dominating demonstration of affection and possession, until she was left breathless and quivering beneath him.

It was in the aftermath, when her knees had turned to jelly and she was still distracted by the tingling aftershocks of their rough lovemaking that he took something out from the back pocket of his pants, pulled her leg onto his lap, and nonchalantly clipped it on her.

…It was an anklet.

Delicate and intricate in design, the fine gossamer-thin platinum threads were decorated with beautiful little charms and tiny fairy bells, tinkling softly with her every little movement.

She had gazed at it bewilderedly at first, and then back at him in confusion. He was exceedingly pleased with how the piece of commissioned jewelry looked on her. She was a petite, tiny woman, so anything more ostentatious would have looked gaudy and unbearably heavy on her. This was perfect.

Belphegor proceeded to pet himself on the back in praise of his own discerning sense of taste and foresight.

“…For me?” Haru queried, sitting up to look closer at the trinket currently wrapped around her ankle. Her face lit up with interest. It was an exquisite little thing; she had never seen anything so fine before. She reached out and touched it curiously.

He grunted in acknowledgement. He was never miserly when it came to lavishing presents on his lovers, be it pretty toys or flashy gifts, but Haru had thrown a fit the first time he tried to substitute an apology with a shiny necklace instead.

The upset, indignant woman had also proceeded to completely ignore him for the subsequent month or so (he had _not_ liked that at all), at least until someone took pity on his oblivious heavy-handedness and shed some light on the situation. The woman would not accept anything less than what he rightfully owed her, and no amount of expensive, glittering jewels would appease her until he acknowledged that he had hurt her with his careless callousness.

After that, he stopped throwing expensive baubles at her, which was just as well. She had never asked for any of those in the first place.

Until now.

Haru was very confused by this random gift. It was also nothing like the ridiculously loud and painfully extravagant pieces that she had seen him bring over (and then made him take back) in the past. She gently fingered the anklet, silently marveling over that refined, expert workmanship, from the chain, to the charms, to the tiny bells. She decided that she actually liked this one.

_However…_

Her brow knitted.

“Why…?” She could not recall any special occasion that would merit this random spurt of generosity from him.

Belphegor’s reply was short and terse and far from romantic. “You started it first,” He made it sound like he was exacting revenge.

“Hahi? Haru did?” she echoed uncertainly. “…What exactly did Haru start again?” 

“Scarf,” he retorted, almost in placid accusation. “You’re binding me, I know.”

 _…Uh_. _Huh_?

Before she could respond that ‘ _no, she was not_ ,’ followed by ‘ _what’s that supposed to mean, desu,_ ’ he continued. “So I’m doing the same.”

She was dumbfounded by his claim. Then she stared at the anklet again. Upon closer inspection, the delicate, detailed charms looked very familiar. After a brief, mental flounder, Haru finally connected the dots. The design was the personal coat of arms of the Crown Prince of Astonia; _his_ insignia.

The light of comprehension that dawned in her eyes served Belphegor well; she wasn’t a stupid woman. He was marking her blatantly; he would not let himself be tied down, at least not without ensuring that she had been similarly caught and bound.

“Since you understand, then this Prince absolutely won’t let go now,” he told her, casual as you please. Then, he snickered. “Oh well, even if you willfully refuse to understand, this Prince still won’t let go. So you should just be good and obediently accept your fate.”

Her eye twitched at his arrogant words, even as her heart started to beat faster at his meaning.

“Hahi, you’re very unromantic,” she mumbled at last, casting him an unimpressed stare. “Can’t you just say something more princely like ‘Haru-chan, please accept this gift as a token of my abiding love and affection?’”

Instead he had to go and make himself sound like some obsessive creep. He snorted at her naïve expectations. “What sort of unrealistic fantasy is that? Sounds like a damn boring vanilla plot to roleplay,” he commented disdainfully. Prince he might be, but they were certainly not living in a rose-tinted fairytale. 

She reached over and pinched his side. “Unromantic!” she accused again, only to yelp when he swiftly lunged over and pressed her onto her back. His lips lifted predatorily at her lack of protest regarding the other matter they just spoke about. He was unbearably pleased; this meant acceptance, wasn’t it.

“I am going to eat you up very thoroughly tonight. And you’re going to enjoy every moment of it,” he commented nonchalantly. Haru stilled, ensnared by his hungry intensity.

“Okay, _Princess_?”

She bit her lip, swallowed, becoming warily docile at the mesmerizing cadence of his dangerous, lilting drawl. She was also trying not to shake even as excitement and reciprocating desire rushed through her entirety. He had her so well-conditioned by now, the dark promise in his seductive words was already enough to make hot and heavy need roil and surge anew inside of her, demanding satisfaction.

That said, inner Haru cried bitter tears for the poor Haru tomorrow who would be aching from the enthusiastic, relentless pestering of the stamina demon currently pinning her down.

“Hahi…Can you _maybe_ not eat so thoroughly at all?” she tried to bargain weakly. His hands were already gleefully running up and down the slight, bared curves of her slender body, every bold, possessive stroke of his fingers eliciting tingling shivers of pleasure from her.

He chuckled wolfishly at her tentative question. “Denied. Something so delicious and tantalizing placed before my eyes; tell me, how can I _not_ indulge?”

Resistance was futile, Haru knew. Since it was already like this, she gave up. Her arms reached over to loop around his neck, pulling him down to her so that she could hide her rosy face against the side of his throat, brushing her lips against his skin, submitting.

“Be gentle, desu,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

He huffed under his breath at her action, amused and aroused, his appetite whetted. He wondered when she would start to figure out that her softness only made him want to bully her even more, until she was sobbing and coming apart frantically in his clutches, overwhelmed and overstimulated by his relentless, merciless affection. 

“Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of you~”

* * *

_::owari::_

* * *

** Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask: **

This was written to fill a drabble prompt request by beeknights on tumblr.

The prompt is as follows: _Haru knits him a scarf and he's mind blown by it. She took the time and energy from her life, thought about him and made this... shabby article of clothes that will keep him warm? It fucks him up. He has tailored, 6k euro clothes and he's never had anything like this. He hates it. He wears it everywhere._

Aha, I tried my best to keep as much to the prompt as possible, but I think because I haven’t written for BelHaru very much lately, my Bel!muse can’t seem to get his hands off of my Haru!muse throughout this whole drabble. (lol)

Still, I hope you enjoyed!

Last but not least, apologies for taking so long to complete this! Let’s just say that I got lost on the road of life and am still making unnecessary detours everywhere. XD

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Am still accepting prompts! Hit me up on tumblr and send some over if you have any~

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!

\--sllebswap


	2. Omake

**Title:** ball and chain

 **Author:** sllebswap

 **Characters/Pairing:** Miura Haru and Belphegor

 **Type:** One-Shot (Complete)

 **Genre:** General/Romance/Humor

 **Word Count:** 599

 **Rating:** T (Contains content not suitable for children)

 **Disclaimer:** Kateikyoushi Hitman Reborn belongs to Akira-san.

 **Summary:** TYL ficlet. Established relationship. Years later, he still likes to tell everyone that she was the one who lassoed him first with that tattered, frumpy scarf.

 **Chapter Last Revised on:** 08/04/19

* * *

** Omake **

By the time he had his fill and would finally let her go, she was curled up in an exhausted heap in the middle of the bed, drowsy and boneless from fatigue. He reached for her, only for her to bat at him wearily, blearily glaring at him like a sleepy, disgruntled kitten. They had already showered, the bedsheets changed, and she was finally comfortable and ready to pass out. “ _No_. _More_.”

She was all ruffled and hissing; guess her docility had a limit, too. She looked like she might even try to bite him if he came too near. He chuckled, sated and now inclined to tease.

“Really? And here I was about to give in and do that thing you wanted...”

That caught her attention. She squinted dubiously at him. He was being _too_ nice. Suspiciously nice. Still, he was dangling a really attractive bait before her nose…

“…Cuddling, desu?” Her eyes grew expectant and shiny, cutely hopeful.  

He shrugged; she was free to think whatever she wanted. He did beckon with his index finger for her to come to him, and after another baleful pause, she eventually scooted over. She didn’t wait for him to make the first move, and all but latched onto him herself, burrowing under his arm until he made way for her and settling comfortably into his side. She planted her face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaled his clean, masculine scent deeply, and relaxed unhesitatingly against him.

Belphegor was faintly bemused by the contentment that all but radiated from her as she wrapped her arms around his waist and finally settled down for the night. Just like that, she was appeased, and he reached over with his free hand and tapped the crown of her head lightly with his fingertips.

When she swiveled her head slightly to gaze up at him, he casually commented, “This is a very special privilege, you know.”

He was never very fond of this sort of thing in the first place, having learned from a very young age never to let his guard down. But she was a different breed altogether, and he was quickly coming to understand that if he wanted to keep her around for a very long time, then he was going to have to allow concessions and let her in closer than he had ever let anyone else in before, because that was the only way to ensure that she bonded to him.

But he did not mind making this exception for her. She was sincere and earnest, and very, very charming. He could get used to this, he decided; he could get used to _her_. She was comfortable to hug; warm and sweet scented and so soft…

Instead of being impressed by his lofty words, Haru wrinkled her nose disdainfully instead. She knew that he had a string of past lovers before; did he think that she was _that_ oblivious? Special privilege? Who would believe him?

She tightened her arms around him, huffing. “This privilege belongs solely to Haru now. Haru won’t let go, desu.”

She was casually repeating the claim that he had made earlier. He was pleased by her bossiness.

“Careful,” he purred, that tenor rich with amusement, long, lean fingers playfully tugging at a glossy lock of her hair. “If you keep saying things like that, I may get excited once more and start doing things to you again until you can’t walk tomorrow~”

“!!!” Haru stiffened, comically alarmed. When he teased like that, it did not even sound remotely like he was joking. “No! Cuddling only!!”

* * *

_::owari::_

* * *

** Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask: **

Forgot to add in the omake! In which Haru finally gets some cuddle time, lol.

**xXxXxXxXxX**

Your reviews make me update faster; so please leave a comment if you like this fic!

\--sllebswap

 


End file.
